Decieving Georgiana
by peacelovelalala
Summary: Darcy and Wickham knew each other well by the time of Pride and Prejudice, when Darcy was left curing the remains of his little sister's broken heart. But what exactly happened? i dont own anything please please please R&R! oh, and no slash
1. Chapter 1

"I'd know that smile anywhere Georgiana," Fitzwilliam claimed without needing to glance up, "you're up to something." Georgiana stopped playing piano adagio and grinned mischievously at her older brother, combing her golden brown locks with as small right hand.

"My dear brother!" she exclaimed. "You think too dangerously of me! I have done nothing…am I allowed just to enjoy my skill of playing piano?" Fitzwilliam grunted lovingly.

"Fine…fine…I'm sorry, Georgiana. What were you thinking about, anyway?" Georgiana rose and began waltzing around the room, her head high in a taunt of her older sibling.

"If I told you, Mr. Darcy, I'm sure you would be greatly unsettled." Darcy snorted and continued to write. His penmanship over the years was spectacular, and if only it was a reflection of his social life…

"Very well, I'll tell you nonetheless. I was thinking of the charming Mr. Wickham!" Darcy blinked twice, setting his quill down slowly.

"Mr.…Mr. Wickham?" he repeated.

"Well, yes, brother,' she replied quickly, "I knew you weren't hard of hearing. And besides, I warned you." She sat back down at her piano and began a slow piece. Darcy sat back in his chair, dazed. Mr. Wickham? He rose and made his way to the piano forte. Georgiana smiled as she saw him coming and shifted over, making room for him on the bench. Her hands flowed gently and swiftly over the keys as she leaned her head against her brother's strong shoulder.

"Be careful…" he warned with care, "he's not as…_faultless_ as you might be led to believe." At that moment there was a vibrant knock on the door. George Wickham, clad in his British Militia uniform, stood solemnly at the door, grasping flowers in his left hand. A beautiful smile swept Georgiana's face at the exact moment a glare crossed Darcy's. She quickly turned to deliver a kiss to her brother before leaping off the bench and racing towards Wickham, her skirt brushing against the ground. She clasped hands with him and he brought up the roses.

"For you, love," he presented them to the young girl. Darcy turned away, dismayed.

***

Hours Darcy paced the floor, awaiting his sister's arrival. Didn't she know he had attempted to pull the same trick on Jasmine Taylor a year before? Suddenly Georgiana waltzed in, dancing with the flowers, looking slightly intoxicated. She landed with a sigh on a long chair and giggled to herself. "I dont understand, brother," she said, "how perfect he is! And anyway, he said you would say bad things against his countenance. And he told me the saddest story...why did you drive him out of house and job, making him be a lowly soldier and all that?"

"Drunkenness speaking," he muttered.

"Tell me, he said you should damn well remember," she replied hotly.

Fitzwilliam turned to his sister. "Do you want to know why he tells you that?"

She shrugged. "He said it was _jealousy._"

He leaned closer to her, smelling the alcohol on her breath. "He's after you money, not you. He gambled himself out of a position, and his part time job is plucking up young women with well off means, like a shark. He doesn't love you, Georgiana!"

Her brow furled. "Well, Mr. High-And-Mighty, I think I would rather believe George and the moment."

"You think that little of me?"

"Yes!" she screamed and ran out of the room, and ran straight into Mr. Bingley.

"Why, hello, Ms. Georgiana," he greeted her politely. She glared at him and walked out.

"What's the matter with your sister?" he asked as he walked into the room quietly. Darcy sighed and stared out of the window.

"Wickham."

"That bastard?" Mr. Bingley asked in shock. "Why did she choose him? He's scum, and everyone should know it."

"Well, she doesn't believe me...you know, the one who raised her. She'd rather empathize his hatred-fueled tale of desperation and jealousy." Bingley smiled thoughtfully and snapped his fingers. "Then I've got your solution."

"But you aren't much of the schemer. I'd assume that you'd leave that to Caroline." Darcy commented with an amused look on his face. His friend shrugged.

"That may be true, but this one does not involve much thinking. We simply get Caroline to talk her out of it." he raised an eyebrow in an unusually deceptive way for Charles Bingley. "My dear friend, let us begin!"


	2. Chapter 2

"Charles tells me you've been fancying that George Wickham, the lowly soldier," Caroline Bingley sniffed as she took a dignified sip of tea.

"He's not _lowly,_" replied Georgiana with a roll of the eyes, "why, he's anything but _lowly_…he just needs to get from within the others' shadow." Caroline broke out into a smile. While she could ruin just about anyone's social happiness, she couldn't bear to foreshadow the grief of little Georgiana and the horrid that would splash on her face when she discovered Caroline had brought it upon her. She shifted a little. Besides, it was cute she was so lovesick, and that she had strayed from the piano for more than a moment.

"Well, he is most agreeable," she laughed, then added in a gossipy tone, "but he's got not a penny to his name!"

"I have enough for the both of us," Georgiana replied primly as she bit delicately into the crumpet. "I do feel quite cross with Fitzwilliam at the moment, he accused Mr. Wickham of being a money-hunting purloiner!" Caroline leaned on the table, resting her head on her forearm. It wasn't proper but Georgiana was the only one there, and she hadn't even tightened her corset yet.

"Well, he does have quite the reputation. I'd just be a little cautious if I were you," noted Caroline. She stood up suddenly. "Make sure you know what he wants from you before you give him everything." She curtsied her suddenly confused, young friend and stepped quickly out of the room. Georgiana sat by herself for a moment, not thinking of anything in particular.

"This dress won't do," she muttered randomly to herself as she shed her garments and loosened her corset, about to slip out of that as well. Suddenly there was a knock on the window. Georgiana gasped and whipped her head around, her bun falling out of her hair. Wickham half waved, staring at her. She rushed to the window, tightening her corset and running her hands down her petticoat skirts anxiously. "What are you doing?" she hissed. He smiled at her.

"Well, I wanted to talk to you, but I was so enraptured by the beauty of you through the window…" her face colored, but she smiled slightly.

"Quit your mindless babble, you weren't intended to see me undress."

"And when will I?" he mused. Georgiana's eyes got wide.

"You're not implying…" she started as she rushed to put her dress back on.

"No, no, no! Not at all. It was a joke, I ensure you." Georgiana's breathing eased slightly, but not by much. "Now, will you accompany me in a stroll across town?" Georgiana blinked delicately.

"Of course."


	3. Chapter 3

"What do you like about me?" Georgiana asked softly and slyly as she watched Wickham eat. He looked at her endearingly, as if she was perfect.

Her brother had to be wrong.

"Everything. Your appearance is enrapturing. Your heart is pure and beautiful and you're terribly, terribly…"

Wickham paused. What was he going to say? Rich? He couldn't. That wouldn't be fair. He took another bite.

"Mr. Wickham!" Georgiana pressed, hung on his every word, assuming he was teasing her.

"I can't think of the word to capture you!" he laughed. "You deserve a million!" Georgiana giggled and patted his hand.

"Wonderful save, George. Now—"

"Georgiana!" they both turned to see a determined Darcy heading their way. Georgiana turned back around and lowered her head while Wickham glared at him. Darcy shot a quizzical brow his way before turning to Georgiana.

"Lady Catherine has sent a letter, Georgiana. She addresses it to you." Georgiana rose in alarm as her brother handed her the letter.

"Me? Why? What have I done?" she asked as she studied it

"Who is Lady Catherine?" pressed Wickham as he saw the intensity in Georgiana's eye.

"Our aunt," Darcy shot back vindictively, "and if you truly cared for Miss Darcy, you should be wise to take heart. Lady Catherine wishes to send her off."

"Send me off?" Georgiana repeated. "Fitzwilliam, you're a dirty liar!"

"In your short-lived life, Georgiana, have you ever known me to lie?"

Georgiana glanced at him spitefully. "Only on one particular subject."

Darcy ignored that jab. "What would you have me return to her?"

"Return to her that she is very courteous and kind and I very much appreciate her…concern of my wellbeing. However, I am perfectly fine in my current state." She smiled to herself. That sounded official.

Darcy's brow twitched and he glanced at Wickham. Not nearly a reaction that he expected of a love-struck soldier. He nodded slightly to the two of them (he didn't feel the need to be completely cordial towards his rebellious sister and her nonchalant boyfriend) and walked off.

"Send you away," muttered Wickham as they continued their tea.

"I know," replied Georgiana as she bit into a crumpet, "can you believe her nerve? She has no idea how I am even and she decides I need a new life!"

"Well, if she wants to send you away maybe you should go away."

Georgiana looked at her partner with indignant confusion. "What?"

"Run away with me." Georgiana's heart skipped a beat.

"You mean…elope." She said, but she didn't believe it. She couldn't.

"Actually, I was wondering what that word was."

"George! Are you insane? I'm not even fifteen yet!" he leaned in closed and cupped her cheek. She had been waiting for this endearing moment, but now she scorned it. He pressed his body against hers and wrapped his other arm around her. "This isn't proper! And neither is running away!"

"Georgiana Darcy, I love you." He let her go gently and watched her stumble down the street, glancing back every few seconds.

He loved her.

She rested her head on the grass and let her fingers wade through the pond.

Did she love him?

Yes. She did. Enough to elope? Well, there wasn't much for her over here. She had seen how much of an incompetent, inept jerk her brother was capable of being. Caroline—Caroline seemed to becoming more and more…attentive to Fitzwilliam and had even joined his side. And then there was Charles. Who knew what was going on beneath his fiery head of hair. She stood up.

He loved her.

She loved him.

That was why she was running away.


	4. Chapter 4

Inside the pub, sheltered from the torrential rain, drunken soldiers sang sleazily and shared their inebriated views on life; and Mr. George Wickham was no exception.

"She said yes?" one of his friends pressed. Wickham shrugged and sighed heavily.

"I honestly can't think of what she said," he reflected as he took another chug of ale, "but—"

"Wickham, you have a visitor." He glanced up to see Georgiana studying him shyly, trying to ignore the lustful hoots and hollering directed towards her.

Their hands connected and he led her into the nearest vacant room. "What are you doing here?" he asked her, placing his hands on her soaked shoulders. Even drenched, she was pretty.

"I came to tell you." She whispered as she tried to seem confident. "I'm coming with you." His face lightened and he laughed, pulling her in for a hug. His lips pressed against hers and they stumbled against the door, closing it entirely. "When should we leave?"

"Depends…when are you to inherit your money?" Georgiana paused.

"I beg your pardon? What does my…inheritance got to do with anything?" suddenly the words came flooding in: _…isn't as faultless as he seems… …not a penny to his name… _she pushed him away from her. "You don't love me!" she cried. He glanced at her, dazed and confused.

"Yes I do," he tried to persuade her, "I—I—"

"You just want my money…it's what you've been after this whole while! You don't have any other reason to stay with me!" tears stained her face and fell like the raindrops she fled to, racing out of the pub as quickly as possible.

***

Eighty four days.

Twelve weeks.

Three months.

That was how long she chose to believe a lie. She ripped the necklace Wickham had given her from her neck and threw it into the mud. That was how long she chose to ignore her brother—the one who raised her, for the most part—and chose to, instead, follow a penniless lowlife like a lost puppy. That was how long she became so enraptured by this…this _man_—enough so to desert all her sense.

But Day Eighty Five: that was when she realized her mistake.

She knocked on the front door of Penboston, the house Caroline had rented, wondering what was to happen next.


	5. Chapter 5

Caroline raced to the door to catch her falling friend. She was soaked and cold. Caroline turned to one of the maids. "Get her in bed."

Georgiana woke up hours later, dazed and confused. "Where am I?" Caroline emerged from behind the door and stroked her covers. "Georgiana. You passed out on my porch, darling. What happened?"

She tried to think of the last thing she went through. After she had left the pub she had ventured on home, but then realized she couldn't face Darcy that way, so she turned and walked in the opposite direction. This entire while it was storming outside, and she wasn't wearing any shoes (her only line of self defense when she figured out Wickham) and she wasn't wearing a cloak—she had left that at the pub as well. She glanced down at the oversized, dry clothes they had fit her into and buried her hands into her head. "You were right," she sputtered in confession, "You were right, you were right. He didn't love me. He just wanted my money—"

Caroline stared at the girl. Something wasn't right. "It…wasn't just your money, was it?"

The girl turned away and sighed, holding back tears. "No."

"Georgiana!"

"I didn't do anything! I promise…Caroline I came to you because I knew I can't face my brother just yet." There was a pause and they heard footsteps coming into the room.

"Caroline, Darcy wants to know—" Bingley stopped, stared at Georgiana. Caroline stood up, pulled her brother out of the room, and closed the door behind her.

"Not a word, Bingley." She warned.

"Am I not allowed to tell my best friend the one he's grieving for is safe?"

"No. Otherwise he'll be grieving because his best friend is the one who _isn't _safe." Bingley furrowed his eyebrows. There was something he didn't understand about his sister.

"Never are you this nice to anyone else…what so special about Georgiana?"

"Now that I think of it I really don't know…she's so fond of me I guess I couldn't let her down with harsh criticism and such." She peered at the door and muttered to herself, "but that might've been what stopped her from leaving." She sent her brother a final warning glance and turn back into the room. "Georgiana, I need you to tell me what happened. Exactly."


End file.
